


Happy New Year, Mr. Barnes

by sashach



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky works on Wall Street, English translation, M/M, Steve draws comics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashach/pseuds/sashach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5541347/chapters/12783053">Merry Christmas, Mr. Rogers</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imbrian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbrian/gifts).



> A translation of [Happy New Year, Mr. Barnes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5592610) by [Imbrian](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbrian/pseuds/Imbrian)

 

He woke up from the bumpy journey and found himself on the back of someone else. Someone who was obviously taller than him. He was unconscious and his hands were wrapped around that someone’s neck, a warm hand was clutching his own hands to prevent him from slipping, while another hand was supporting him at the back.

 

“You’ve awaken?” that someone who was carrying him turned his head and asked with concern. “You passed out. I guess it’s probably due to loss of water?” That someone patted his arms. “Hold on tight, we’re almost at the health room.”

 

The voice sounded familiar, Steve Rogers tensed up immediately.

 

Of course it was familiar. That someone was James Barnes, his neighbor. But Barnes probably had no idea that they lived next to each other. He believed Barnes had never noticed him before, Barnes was…

 

The lower part of his body was pressed against Barnes’ back, and with the constant contact and friction of their bodies, he felt the unavoidable reaction of his body. Steve didn’t know if he should apologize for his oddly sensitive lower half, or say nothing and wait for the reaction to dissipate as Barnes seemed to feel nothing, or pretended to feel nothing.

 

Barnes only walked a couple of steps when he stopped suddenly and rotated his shoulders joints. Steve almost wanted to get down from his back, but before he could say anything, Barnes spoke first, “… I thought you should be tired,”

 

“I’m sorry,” embarrassed, Steve stretched his legs a little. “I can walk myself.”

 

“It’s fine,” Barnes continued to walk. He didn’t sound a bit irritated. “You’re Rogers, right?”

 

Steve recalled seeing Barnes standing with a couple of girls just now, it seemed like they were taking down records for the football team. He was not that thrilled to expect Barnes to recognize him, Barnes must had seen his name on the list and that’s it. “Yeah, Steve Rogers.”

 

“I’m Barnes, James Barnes,” Barnes had been carrying him for a distance, but he didn’t sound breathless at all. “You can call me Bucky.”

 

“Bucky?” Confused, Steve repeated the name. “I thought it’s Jim.”

 

“Bucky is short for Buchanan, my middle name,” Barnes turned his head, blue-green eyes looking at him. “So I’ll call you Steve?”

 

Uncertain what he’d done to exchange names with Barnes, Steve nodded blankly. “Sure.”

 

“Tell me, Steve…” entering the shelter of a building, Barnes finally put him down, and very thoughtfully, took off his own jacket and put it over Steve, covering the fairly rousing lower part of his body very nicely. “… what prompted you to join the football team?”

 

His body all tensed up, Steve gritted through his teeth, “Why not? Just because I don’t look like someone who can get a sports scholarship, doesn’t mean I can’t join the team.”

 

Raising his brows in surprise, Barnes curled the corner of his lips amiably and smiles, “No… relax…” The brunet shrugged his shoulders wistfully. “I thought the reason is obvious enough. From the coach to the players, the entire team is made up by a bunch of imbecile assholes.”

 

Barnes was right, of course. Those people were bullies. “I just… don’t want people to think that I can’t do it.”

 

“Do what?” coming from most people, the question would sound provoking, but there was an absence of complication in Barnes’ tone.

 

“Football, play sports, just like those guys,” professing the truth, Steve gazed into Barnes’ friendly eyes. There wasn’t a hint of disdain, only confusion. “I don’t want to be put down.”

 

“People who put you down are jerks. No matter how perfect you are, they can still find one excuse to put you down,” shrugging his shoulders, Barnes flashed a beautiful smile. “You’ve got the right stuff in you, you should go to town with it.”

 

A crease formed between Steve’s brows. On one hand, he had no idea what the right stuff Barnes was talking about; on the other hand, he didn’t think the brunet really know him well. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

 

Barnes’ smile froze. He pursed his lips then said, “I thought you’re the writer for the school papers’ comics?”

 

He was… doubtful that someone like Barnes would read the comics in the school papers. “Yeah, that’s me…”

 

A bright grin bloomed on the brunet’s face as he tilted his head. “See, I knew it’s you,” Standing on tiptoes, Barnes stretched his limbs and placed his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “That makes you a million times better than those guys, they’re a bunch of assholes with no redeeming qualities…”

 

Upon hearing that, Steve gave Barnes a supportive smile at his exaggeration.

 

“I’m serious,” Barnes blinked. “The team’s performance is so bad, they can’t even play properly.”

 

***

 

On the day that Steve Rogers is moving in, Bucky finally realizes what proposition he had offered.

 

He has invited his first love, ex-boyfriend, the only person he’d ever been with—the next door neighbor whom he’s not seen for fourteen years, and had no contact whatsoever—is moving into the only place he can relax apart from his parents’ house. His apartment. The building was built in the twentieth century, but he had spent countless hours decorating every nooks and crannies of the apartment, handpicked everything with care, to build his spiritual fortress.

 

Christmas makes people irrational. Bucky buries his face in his hands as he sits on the couch, trying not to think about the fact that Steve Rogers is arriving in about thirty minutes.

 

He fucking loves Steve Rogers, Bucky hears himself exhales a long sigh of ruefulness.

 

Even though Steve has grown all tall and muscular, his behavior does not hide that stubborn and obstinate boy within him. According his understanding of Steve, even if his comics sell like hotcakes, his won’t be anymore confident with himself. To Steve Rogers, the road to prove himself is boundless.

 

But to Bucky, seventeen year old Steve Rogers had nothing to prove, Steve Rogers has always been adequate; Steve Rogers who only draw comics is good enough for him.

 

While he is dwelling in his memory of how he used to sit in an empty classroom, holding his chin to watch Steve draw comics, thirty minutes has come and gone. Bucky starts to pace around his apartment restlessly, wondering how bad is the holiday traffic that the blond is delayed and late beyond the expected time. Later, Bucky throws himself on the couch that overlooks Central Park, contemplating painfully the possibility that the blond has changed his mind.

 

Just like he was suddenly scared of the idea earlier, Steve could also have second thoughts.

 

This is not a joke. Today is the second day after Christmas, it’s been forty-eight hours since their reunion after forty years of separation, and now they are going to live together. Steve could have second thoughts and he himself could be scared.

 

Bucky begins to curse himself for offering the invitation. “You could god damn go back for fishing, Bucky Barnes…”

 

The setting sun shines through the windows. Days are shorter in winter, so are dusks; nights, however, are never-ending. When he’s busy with work, the changing of seasons has no effect on him; throughout his life, the only time when he has to take account of the weather is when he goes mountain climbing. He feels like this is the end, Steve is not moving in.

 

Bucky walks past the designer rack and remembers calling his designer friend in the middle of the night yesterday. The other man almost hung up on him thanks to time difference. “Fuck you, Barnes! You’re harassing me just to ask about a rack for holding dog bowls?”

 

It’s not just an ordinary rack. As he bends down to inspect the rack he’d picked up at the warehouse this morning, a curve tugs Bucky’s lips wistfully. This is his first gift for Joy. Having  spent the better part of her life galloping on the racing tracks, the racing dog deserves only the best. Aware that he couldn’t be separated from Joy, Bucky sighs, “… might as well ask him if I could have Joy,”

 

Which is why he hates holidays. He usually flies to Hong Kong or Shanghai as both cities are still busy at this time of the year. Sometimes he would depart after Christmas to spend the New Year holidays overseas. Anywhere is the same when you are single. He was at the Four Seasons Hotel in Hong Kong last year, polishing off several bottles of champagne he had bought from the supermarket in the basement of the International Finance Centre. The hangover brought by the champagne was a nightmare, as if someone had hacked his brains with an axe several times.

 

But it’s no worse than the feeling of having a hole curved out of his chest like now.

 

“Dumbest Christmas ever…” he wants to tear off the light grey high necked sweater he’s wearing now. Damn it, he’s always the one to persuade people, not the other way round, thinks Bucky, as he recalls how he and Rebecca had chosen what to wear via webcam this morning. And now all he wants to do is to take it off.

 

He remembers his co-worker from the company’s Asia Pacific head office in Hong Kong had told him previously that apart from Four Seasons Hotel, the Ritz Carlton Hotel in Hong Kong is also quite good. Maybe he could still make reservations for accommodation and air tickets; all he needs is a light jacket or a long trench coat and he’s ready to go.

 

Just when he’s gotten up from the couch and is about to head towards the bedroom, the special line from the doorman downstairs rings, he picks up the phone.

 

“Mr. Rogers is here and he’s been directed to the elevator,”

 

Bucky doesn’t remember what was his answer. After hanging up, he promptly walks to the door, wondering if he should open it. His neighbor living opposite him is just as boring as he is: there are no Christmas decorations on the door, resulting in the exterior of both apartments looking no different from each other. Concerned that Steve might knock on the wrong apartment, Bucky opens the door immediately.

 

And there stands Steve. Bucky finds himself letting go of all his qualms.

 

They wrap themselves in each other arms, as if they’ve never been apart in the last fourteen years.

 

***

 

Bucky lives in the most expensive area Steve could imagine, but the interior decor is very simple just like the Barnes’ house. It’s not brimming with too many contemporary art, in fact, at a glance, most of the pictures on the wall are photography in which at least five of them are mountain themed.

 

Joy does not have much resistance for the new environment. Under Bucky’s encouragement, she takes her seat on the black cow leather couch. Her neatly trimmed toenails scratch across the surface of the couch, but Bucky does not seem to mind at all.

 

“Your luggage…” Bucky sounds perplexed. “is just this duffel bag?”

 

“I brought my drawing tools and a change of clothes and Joy’s unfinished food,” Steve gazes at him nervously. Bucky does not look very happy when he mentioned his change of clothes.

 

“Your clothes for other seasons…” Bucky opens his duffel bag. “are still at your house?”

 

“These are all my clothes,” bending down, Steve takes out a couple of his clothes, to be exact, there are three button-downs, two long sleeves crew necks, and three short sleeves crew necks. “And two of Joy’s: a raincoat and the vest you’d seen before.”

 

Bucky seems much more relaxed all at once. “… is that so?”

 

“I don’t have much stuff. When I moved back to the East Coast previously, I took everything I had accumulated during the fourteen years I was on the West Coast, there were only a few boxes.” Realizing that he should explain further, Steve continues. “Most of them are just old stuff that goes directly to the basement in my house, my work from college, manuscripts from early years, I don’t bring those to New York.”

 

Without another word, Bucky takes the clothes that Steve passes to him, his expression normal as before.

 

Following behind Bucky into the bedroom, Steve and Joy glance around the space with curiosity. From the outside, the building does not look much, and this apartment from the last century may look grand, but the design is relatively ancient. Steve knows the apartment is close to Bucky’s company on Seventh Avenue near Time Square, so it does not come as a surprise to him that Bucky has chosen to live here. The two rooms in the apartment are situated along the corridor, if the one with a view to the park is their bedroom, then the other one further inside should be the empty room.

 

Steve has only shot a glance at the empty room when Bucky turns to open the door. “There’s only a desk inside,”

 

“A desk is good enough,” Steve puts down duffel bag that is emptied of his clothes next to a leg of the desk.

 

Then he notices another piece of furniture in the room: on the other end of the desk, next to a leg is a huge lazybones cushion. Bucky explains, “That’s Joy’s cushion, she can keep you company here.”

 

In the master bedroom that has a beautiful view of Central Park is a queen size bed, Steve is worried that he might take up a lot of space; near the heater is a low bed, Steve reckons it should be Joy’s bed. “You even managed to find a shop that sells dog bed…”

 

“I had a look around the Indian supermarket,” Bucky slides over the fact that he had spent a better half of yesterday on traveling. He was unable to get a car way too many times yesterday that the thought of driving his own car in New York came up for the first time. “It wasn’t too much trouble, except it was difficult to get an Uber.”

 

No idea what Uber is, Steve shrugs. “Actually, you could just give her an old pillow and she’s one happy dog.”

 

Bucky comes out from the en suite bathroom and lowers his head to pat the top of Joy’s head. “I only have two pillows, what are you going to sleep on if I give it her?”

 

Scratching his collar, Steve replies slowly, “I can sleep on the couch? It seems very comfy.”

 

Bucky withdraws his hand from the dog’s head and glares at him indignantly. “Why would you want to sleep on the couch?”

 

“I don’t want you to feel too cramp…” in comparison to his behavior just now, Bucky’s displeasure is apparent. Realizing he had said something wrong, the blond explains quickly, “… maybe after the holidays we can go get a bigger bed together.”

 

Good, watching the anger dissipates from the brunet’s face, Steve thinks he should be placated, and true enough, when Bucky speaks again, his tone is milder. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve grown taller but not that tall.”

 

Steve looks at Bucky, astonished that his words and actions have so much effect on Bucky. He is thrilled but also terrified, he has no idea why he has such an impact on the brunet. Unable to resist himself, Steve cups Bucky’s face with his hand. “Bucky…” he speaks, but he has no words to express himself precisely.

 

The face in his hand now seems redder than a moment ago. The tip of a pink tongue peeps out from the corner of rosy lips and licks the sides of the lips quickly.

 

Steve leans slightly over while Bucky raises his head slightly higher and they kiss.

 

Steve’s other hand catches Bucky’s elbow, the grey sweater is so soft that his hand feels as if it would slip from Bucky is he exerts a little strength. So Steve simply wraps one arm around Bucky’s waist while the hand that is cupping the brunet’s face shifts to grasp his lower jaw. The kiss deepens. Their first true kiss after fourteen years. 

 

He had yearned to kiss Bucky like this. In the comics, a paraplegic Hades has to rely on his heavy armor to stand up once again in order to kiss Persephone… the tall and slender beauty whom he had fallen in love at first sight.

 

When the kiss ends, Steve notices the familiar hint of smile at the corners of Bucky’s eyes. The one he used to see in the past.

 

Steve bends a little so that Bucky can encircle his arms around him and their foreheads press together. Everything is so natural as if their bodies have always been in synced with each other.

 

“I have to go on business trips, occasionally, but not often,” Bucky murmurs to the intimate space between them. “At least within my tolerance, although I’m not sure if I could tolerate that now… I used to have my dinner at my office desk, my job is my lover, but not now, not ever…”

 

“I promise there’ll be dinner waiting for you,” Steve’s hand curls around the brunet’s slightly long hair. It’s longer than when he was a teenager. “I’m not a chef, but living alone I did learn to cook a few dishes.”

 

“I don’t have any rules and regulations that you need to abide by,” sensing a hint of plea in Bucky’s tone, Steve fixes a steady gaze into his eyes. “As long as you’re willing to stay.”

 

“I’m willing to stay, Bucky,” brushing away the hair hanging down the brunet’s forehead, Steve plants a kiss on his fair forehead. “Unless you want me to leave.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

His plan was to sneak out of the house while his parents and their friends were clinking glasses and chatting away.

 

Unfortunately, when he was walking down the steps, a figure cladded in white night gown was standing in his way. “Jeez, Becca, why are you hiding here?” he hissed at the eldest of his younger sisters. She should be in bed at this hour. “I need to go, you better not tell Ma; I can give you anything, Britney Spears, any album you want.”

 

“I don’t like Britney Spears, I like Christina Aguilera!” the displeased young lady slanted her eyes at her brother who was trying to worm his way out. “Where are you going?”

 

“I have a date, okay?” smiled Bucky ruefully. His sister was especially persistent today and this was troubling. “Don’t rat on me! We made a show just now to say goodnight, Colonel Trip and Maria would be so mad if they know I had sneaked out.”

 

“It’s not like they forbid you from dating,” Becca continued to stand in the way, staring at her extremely nervous brother. “Why do you have to sneak out?”

 

“It’s not like I can go out on a date in the middle of the night, let alone stay out all night; so you see, Becca, pumpkin, you play an important role here,” said Bucky as he walked around his sister and came to the door. “One album, so long as you don’t snitch.”

 

Finally free from Rebecca’s pestering, Bucky walked a long distance to a secluded area where he had parked his car next to a cluster of trees. The night was freezing cold and as much as he wanted to snuggle in the comfort of his blankets, he wanted to celebrate the new year with his boyfriend even more. As he looked around to find his boyfriend, a pair of hands encircled his waist from behind and hugged him tightly.

 

“Hey…” Bucky smiled as he held those hands and turned around to gaze down on the other person. “You made it.”

 

“They’re celebrating the new year with my dad’s previous boss, they let me stay at home because I told them I have a headache,” the blond youth grinned. “Your house must be full of guests, I saw the cars parking in your yard when I left.”

 

“Yeah,” seeing his boyfriend had only put on a flimsy coat, Bucky quickly turned around and opened the car door with his keys. “Get in the car, it’s too cold out here.”

 

The blond settled himself in the front seat and waited for Bucky to make his way around the car and get into the driver’s seat. The moment he inserted the keys to start the car, the blond reached out and drew his head in for a kiss. Bucky blushed instantaneously at the contact and he was glad it was too dark to see here or else it would be too embarrassing.

 

He was usually calm and collected even in the face of distress, but with Steve, everything just unhinged and came apart and he didn’t know why.

 

They had started dating before Christmas. Bucky was, as usual, in the empty classroom with Steve where the blond drew his comics and he had asked Steve if he wanted to go a date with him. The latter was mad initially, dissing him for playing such a vile joke, “Even if you’re the one to initiate this, I still think it’s mean, even from you.”

 

Oh god, but he wasn’t joking at all. Unable to manage a smidgen of smile, Bucky couldn’t even tell him that was not a joke. “… I’m not joking, Steve, I…” the blond finally noticed how pale he looked and realized that the whole thing was not a prank or a bet between friends.

 

With extreme clumsiness, Steve kissed him. Steve’s nose had dived in too close and clashed into his face and Bucky couldn’t tell which one came first: Steve’s lips or Steve’s teeth.

 

There were misunderstandings at first, but it all went well eventually. Steve seemed to have liked Bucky all along. Once, during a date, Steve suddenly brought up the fact that Bucky used to play football on the community team when he was a kid. Bucky didn’t know Steve was active on the field, nor did he know that he already had a little admirer back then.

 

During Christmas holidays, Steve had to go back to Brooklyn to spend Christmas with his grandparents. The Rogers were of Irish descent and they had been living in Brooklyn their entire lives. Unlike the other Rogers, Steve was his father’s only son, but Steve had many cousins, most of whom lived in New York and New Jersey.

 

Steve had just got back to the suburbs yesterday and they had agreed over the phone that they would meet today to celebrate the countdown.

 

By the time the young lovers had ended their kiss, the new year had also arrived. Bucky whispered against Steve’s lips, “Happy New Year, Steve…”

 

Steve Rogers did not reply immediately as he lean forward to kiss him. “Happy new year, Bucky.”

 

Next, Bucky found himself reaching out a hand to recline the driver’s seat. He moved backward to the passenger seat at the back as took off his clothes, knocking his head on several corners of the hood of the car. Right before his eyes, Steve was also taking off his clothes.

 

Not long after, Bucky was spreading himself before Steve. The latter’s hands were covered in lube, shaking nervously on Bucky’s knees.

 

Steve’s hand slipped when he tried to enter him the first time. Bucky held his breath but bravely, he smiled and reassured the former, “It’s fine… try again,”

 

Soon enough, two bodies became one. Bucky’s legs were too heavy for Steve’s arms, so he simply put his legs on the front seats. Steve leaned down to kiss the corners of his lips, his hooded eyes, his up-tilted lower jaw, and came inside him.

 

Steve settled his head in the crook of his neck, breathless. Bucky felt the bones of the blond rattling against his body, hurting a little, but it did not compare to the member inside him that drove him over the edge. He never knew he would love that feeling: being intruded, being possessed by overwhelming pressure.

 

On the first day of 1998, he gave himself to Steve Rogers, his first love.

 

“Happy New Year…” outside the car window came the crackling sounds of fireworks exploding in someone’s yard. When Steve lowered himself to take the brunet’s member in his mouth, Bucky heard himself spoke softly, “I have a feeling… this year’s gonna be… amazing.”

 

***

 

Bucky is still in deep slumber, but Steve does not wake him up and let him sleep in.

 

The blond puts on his pants and leaves the bedroom with the always stealthy greyhound. It’s the first day of 2016 and all he’s been thinking about is making a sumptuous breakfast for Bucky.

 

They did not join the celebration in Time Square, instead they had taken Joy out for a walk earlier on. A glimpse of the crowd that thronged the streets, a taste of the festive atmosphere. Then they turned into a corner that was less crowded and kissed on the relatively peaceful streets to celebrate the new year. They went home afterwards with their dog who loathes loud noises.

 

Their celebration continued with the consumption of alcohol, a shower together, and more then celebrations in their bed.

 

Recalling their activities in bed, Steve almost failed to hold the egg in his hand.

 

Bucky is not much difference from the past. Physical wise, he has not grown any much taller, but he maintains the good habit of working out to keep up with his intense job. However, Bucky is not very obsessed with working out, which somewhat explains why he was single. He hardly dwells in places where one can easily find a partner, no matter what nature the partner is for.

 

But just two days ago, Bucky had mentioned: you can easily to find someone through cell phones these days.

 

And then Bucky gave him a lesson on modern technology, such as, how to surf the net on cell phones, how to connect with people by downloading certain apps, etc. Bucky was still talking when Steve shifted his attention to the brunet’s animated lips, and the next second, they were on the couch, limbs entangled. Steve has no concern about how many people one could meet through those apps, he has only ever like Bucky.

 

He remembers how he had peppered kisses on Bucky’s pale shoulders and how he had removed Bucky’s delicately soft pants.

 

Steve used to hold Bucky’s long, slender fingers under his hands, and after fourteen years apart, his hands had grown as big as Bucky’s. Nothing about Bucky has changed though. He still moans with unsuppressed desires from the deep of his throat, as if the kisses that Steve plants on his body are not kisses but burning embers.

 

Now he can easily hike up Bucky’s legs and he wants those legs to encircle his waist so that he could nibble and kiss those legs. When he thrusts deep into Bucky, he knows Bucky’s toes would curl with elation; when they are entwined together, melting into each other, he knows every moment makes Bucky happy.

 

He finally understands that his worries and apprehensions in the past years had been unnecessary.

 

Steve puts the freshly fried eggs on the plate, the nicely fried bacons are crispy and juicy with steam still rising from them, and the coffee is done as the switch pops. A symphony of fragrance disperses in the air. Even though he has moved Manhattan for a couple of days, Steve has not exactly catch up with Bucky, but he thinks he has managed to gather some information just by reading Bucky’s body language.

 

Bucky has an old injury that was incurred during a climbing accident in college. He had fallen from a high level and hurt his left arm, and although his arm is intact, he could not lift heavy stuff with his left hand. He had since then given up the thought of pursuing a career in mountaineering. Bucky had recounted the story casually, but Steve had witnessed his attempts to use his left hand when he had to reach for anything from the cabinets above. Sometimes Bucky would succeed, sometimes he had to switch to his right hand.

 

Steve knows very well that Bucky is a fighter. He does not give up easily, which means the injury of his left hand does not stop Bucky from giving up mountain-climbing. Of course his injury has limited his level of activity in the sport, but in comparison to high challenge mountaineering, Bucky now prefers camping and hiking in the mountains for an extended period of time.

 

“Smells good,” wearing a round neck crew, Bucky sits down at the dining table. He has washed and cleaned, and there are some drops of water lingering on a few strands of hair hanging down his forehead. His habit of licking the corners of his lips after taking a sip of the coffee has not changed. “Oh…” a curve tugs his lips as he sings his praises. “… you have talent in making coffee, Steve.”

 

“What talent is that?” Steve leans over to kiss him. “I guess it must be the excellent coffee beans.”

 

“Maybe,” the brunet shoots a glance at the cabinet where the coffee beans are kept. “I had a look at the container the other day when I was taking down Joy’s food. I got a co-worker to help me pick one and she had chosen a certain manor coffee with fair trade certification. I have no idea of coffee varieties, I just hope it’s good.”

 

There are also quite a number of red wine in Bucky’s apartment, but it is evident that those are not his concern. With a nonchalant smile, Bucky explains the existence of the bottles of red wine: he only takes stock of his alcohol when he needs to get drunk.

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

Upon hearing the question, Steve notices belatedly that Bucky has already put down his cutlery and is now looking fixedly at him. “I’m thinking about you… I always thought you’re doing well…”

 

“I’m doing well?” Bucky does not understand the meaning behind his words. “You’re implying that I do well materially, but spiritually, I’m hollow inside, and my life is banal?”

 

“Who am I to say your life is banal?” Steve shakes his head and puts his hand on Bucky’s to stop him from swinging the pepper shaker. “I thought you would find yourself a good match.”

 

With a frown, Bucky puts down the pepper shaker. “… I did find myself a good match.”

 

Throat tight, Steve lowers his head to examine the patterns on his plate only to find that Bucky’s tableware are monochrome with no patterns. Even the water tumbler is transparent and the mug is white.

 

“But I guess that’s the problem with first love. People meet their first love when they’re young and most of them don’t believe that that person will be their life partner,” Bucky reaches out a hand to hold Steve’s. “What are you looking at, Steve? I was talking about you.”

 

“Your first love is a boring person,” Steve returns his grip. “Dull and uninteresting.”

 

“Someone who draws comic strips for the largest comic publisher in America can never be boring,” Bucky replies with a grin. “But if he doesn’t continue to draw comics, he might become a dull and uninteresting person.” After a short pause, the brunet goes on. “Okay… maybe a dull and uninteresting blond sweetheart.”

 

“I just couldn’t find the reason to continue drawing at the moment,” to Steve, creation is intimate yet important. When he did not have any friends—not that he has a wide circle of friends now—he used to spend a lot of time drawing, as though he could gain something from constructing a world. “I earned recognition, but lost motivation.”

 

His story of coming out is nothing compared to most people. Perhaps in the eyes of his parents, his sexuality is more or less expected judging from his distinctive personality since he was a kid. On the contrary, his mother was worried that his conservative dressing style would hinder his opportunities in the gay community. Still is, actually, despite his growth spurt and muscular physique from running and boxing.

 

“But I won’t stop trying,” stroking the brunet’s knuckles. “… to draw and brainstorm for scripts.”

 

“The sounds good enough for me,” Bucky gathers his plate and puts it on Steve’s empty one. “Although I insist that you must have a job, I hope you understand that I’m not so broke that you must have an income immediately.” Bucky stands up to put the plates in the sink, then wraps his arms around Steve’s neck from behind. “You can take it slow.”

 

Steve lowers his head and presses a kiss on his arm. “Are you saying you’re providing for me?”

 

“I’m saying you can take it slow,” Bucky’s voice is brimmed with contentment. Steve has to admit, this is bliss, that Bucky is happy because of him. “But don’t think you can stay at home and do nothing. Joy is cute when she’s all lazy and snuggly, but you, uh-uh, you’re not that cute.”

 

“So much for being deeply in love,” Steve sighs with exaggeration. “So you prefer skinny guys, I should have known.”

 

“I…” Bucky withdraws his arms. “never thought about that. I dare say I don’t have any kinks, but it’s not like I can give you an example from the top of my head.” He’s just joking. Steve is about to explain that he’s just joking when Bucky speaks again, “Maybe after I dumped you, we can find out from my next boyfriend.”

 

There is not an iota of tease in the brunet’s tone. Perplexed, Steve lifts his gaze to find a pair of eyes that contains a mixture of threat and pensiveness. “I can only beg you not to dump me on the first day of the new year, Bucky.”

 

“Then don’t ask me stupid questions on the first day of the new year,” the blond leans over to kiss him, his body considerably tensed. “I hate when you do that.”

 

“Okay,” Steve replies as Bucky returns his kiss with fervor. “I think I heard you said it yesterday, but I forgot to respond.”

 

Bucky mumbles something between the kiss, it sounds somewhat like asking Steve what did he forget.

 

“Happy new year, Mr. Barnes.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe Imbrian wrote a sequel to Merry Christmas, Mr. Rogers in such a short time, and of course i have to translate the fic to English. that said, please note that this translation is not proofread, any mistakes is mine. if you found any grammar or vocabulary mistakes, please let me know. English is the official language of my country, but i obviously suck at it.


End file.
